


Shock

by Fire_Bear



Series: Klance Month 2018 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (I'm not sure which on is accurate?), (also not so much comfort...), (should I add that as a tag?), (which isn't for very long, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Kingsman AU, Kingsman Universe-typical Violence, Kissing, Klance Month 2018, M/M, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Spies & Secret Agents, Torture, Violence, Week 2, or described accurately)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 14:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15974327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: The Kingsmen have been attacked by one of their own agents, brainwashed and sent to take them down. When Keith manages to take him down and begins his own investigation, Lance is sent with him to act as a sniper. Content to watch Keith kick ass, Lance doesn't expect to watch their best agent being captured by the enemy.Can he save him before they brainwash Keith as well?





	Shock

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally going to write one based on To All The Boys I Loved Before because I saw (most) of that and decided that Lance would be good in the main role. Then my sister decided to watch Kingsman 2 the other day and I went... wait. I could do that. I decided to do my own story, though.
> 
> Disclaimer: none of this is scientifically accurate, probably. But, I mean, if Harry Hart can be brought back to life with a completely scientific magical gel, I figured, what the heck.
> 
> Another disclaimer: I described Keith's eyes but I wasn't sure whether violet eyes were just a fan thing or not so I looked up the Voltron Wiki. According to that, Keith has blue-grey eyes so I figured I'd use that... I'm still not sure what colour his eyes are. I mean, they always looked black to me which, y'know, not a common colour, so. (This is why Keith POVs are probably easier because Lance can have eyes like the ocean and whatever.)

“Are you in position, Galahad?”

“I’m in _a_ position, Lancelot,” Lance replied, grinning. “Depends on what position you want me to be in…?”

“Could you two not flirt while I’m overseeing this mission?” came Pidge’s voice from the high-tech glasses.

“We’re not flirting!” both Lance and Keith said at the same time. Lance watched Keith’s mouth moving through his scope, amused by the faint blush on his cheeks.

“Uh huh,” said Pidge, and Lance could see her unimpressed look despite being halfway across the world in Dubai. Which, fun fact, was not a good place to wear a suit in. Lance was just glad that Hunk had installed some sort of microfibre whatever in their suits so they could keep cool or warm in any climate.

“Anyways,” Lance said. “I’m in position. I can see you from here, Lancelot.” Through his scope, Lance saw Keith nod from where he stood on the corner of the street, perusing a food stall. When Keith turned back to the man to purchase something, Lance’s grin widened. “And your sweet ass.” Keith tensed but was quick to continue his conversation in Arabic.

“You’re not supposed to be looking at his ass,” Pidge pointed out. “You’re supposed to be covering the building.”

Grimacing, Lance shifted on the rooftop he was lying on, the sun beating down on his back. He was glad for the multiple bottles of water he’d lugged up the stairs. Pointing his high-tech and gadget-filled sniper’s rifle at the offending building, Lance murmured, “Sorry, Morgana.”

“Too right.”

“What’s the situation?” Keith asked.

“Mmm…” Lance surveyed the building. It was old and looked to be abandoned. Perhaps it had been an apartment building at some point, squat enough to be only four floors high and square enough to hold only a handful of homes on each one. But no-one had, apparently, been in it since a fire had collapsed half the building. Supposedly, it had been cleared but there hadn’t been anybody to move back in.

Or so the owner had reported. Instead, some sort of organisation had taken it over. Kingsman didn’t know what they were up to yet but they did know that they were of the evil sort. One of their agents had been investigating them, only to go missing for a few days. They’d abruptly returned and started killing agents. Two of them had died in the attack and the agent in question had had to be put down, as it were.

Keith had been the one to take him down and Lance was a little worried that he’d forged ahead to take over the investigation from a sense of guilt.

At the moment, there were two guys hanging around the main door of the building, smoking. Neither of them appeared to be local: their skin of an olive complexion and their casual suits in an Italian style. Lance let his scope roam over the windows, letting the technology resolve the problem of darkened windows and the reflection of the sun. There were several people within the building, some of which seemed to be in a meeting, if the board was any indication.

Unfortunately, the technology he had could only show him so much. With the building being so old, there wasn’t any cameras or computers that Pidge could hack remotely to overlay onto what he could see from outside. Thermal imaging and whatever else only went so far as well. So it was going to be up to Keith to get inside the building and tell them what was going on.

“Two at the door,” Lance told Keith. “At least eight inside. If there are rooms to the back of the building, there might be more. There seems to be some sort of gathering in there. They’ve got the whiteboard out. Or whatever they’re using.”

“I should be able to deal with that,” said Keith, his voice trembling in a way that told Lance that he was walking.

He pulled his sniper’s rifle down to look at the street. Keith was strolling down the road, umbrella hooked over his elbow, like a proper gentleman, and a paper bag of something in his other hand. Lance swept his rifle across to watch the smoking men. Neither of them seemed to have noticed Keith but he tapped his finger against the barrel of his rifle and the scope brought up their mouths in a small square within his view, calculating and translating their movements until Arabic was being spoken into Lance’s ear.

“ _-another one of them_.”

“ _Should we get the boss_?”

“ _No, we can take care of another one of these men of kings_.”

“Shit,” said Lance. “Lancelot, they know who you-”

And it was at that precise moment that Keith reached the two guards. Before Lance could help out by shooting one of them - which, he had been told, was impressive from this distance - Keith swung the bag of… chocolates? Whatever they were, they flew out of the paper bag and into the men’s faces in the same instance that Keith launched himself forward, arms and legs flying out. Lance loved watching this: Keith was an amazing Kingsman agent and he made his movements look elegant, powerful and aggressive. As usual, Lance’s heart fluttered and he followed the fight, waiting for an opening to help out or for things to get dicey.

Which is exactly what happened when the door suddenly opened from the inside. Lance blinked, sucked in a breath, and switched his aim to the men swarming out of the building. How they had managed to miss these people was beyond him. Pidge and Hunk’s tech should’ve picked them up. It meant that something serious was going on in there and that the building was no longer the way it once had been. Gritting his teeth, Lance picked out the toughest looking foes and kept an eye on them, ready to fire on them if Keith requested it.

“Morgana, there’s something wrong here,” he said. “Where the hell did they come from?!”

“I’m looking into it right now,” Pidge told him, accompanied by the frantic tapping of keyboard keys.

“Lancelot, you need me to take out some of these goons?”

“No,” Keith replied as he roundhouse kicked the guy Lance had been paying attention to. Lance quickly picked out another one to target. “They probably don’t know where you are, if they know you’re in the city at all,” Keith continued as his dark hair bobbed through Lance’s sightline. “Best to keep it that way.”

“I dunno, Lancelot…” murmured Lance, his frown deepening. “There’s a lot down there.”

“I’m fine,” Keith insisted.

They went silent, Lance swinging between threats, ready for the call for help. But nothing happened except for heavy breathing as Keith brawled as only he could. Whenever Lance caught a glimpse of him, there was a flash of a knife or the blur of a gun. Keith’s umbrella was on the ground now, but he didn’t need it and never had.

As Lance concentrated on a new adversary, a bulky guy who had stepped slowly out of the building, he heard a sudden grunt. He frowned: Keith only ever grunted if he was hit particularly hard or if he was climbing something. Worried, Lance tapped his thumb against the back of the trigger, switching to a wide view. His eyes widened. Keith was surrounded, the men attacking him now taking it in turns to dart forward and hit him. None of them were bothering with weapons and Keith appeared to have none on him.

“Shit, Lancelot!” Lance exclaimed. “You’re not fine. I’m gonna take some of these guys out.”

“No, don’t,” Keith gasped, blocking a sloppy kick. “We don’t know who these people are.”

“What’s that matter?” Lance demanded. “There’s too many of them to-”

“We need Lancelot to infiltrate the organisation,” came Shiro’s sudden voice. If Lance hadn’t been trained, he would have jolted in surprise. There were several ongoing missions happening at the moment so Shiro didn’t watch over all of them. Perhaps the attack on the Kingsman agents themselves had brought out Shiro’s protectiveness. “If he’s caught, he’ll definitely get inside,” Shiro continued. “That’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it, Lancelot?”

Lance watched Keith nod before attacking one side of the circle. While he did that, the big guy who’d just joined them pushed his way through the crowd. He had a bad feeling about this man and took a breath. “Lancelot. Watch your six.”

Before Keith could turn, however, the big man held something up. It took Lance a second to recognise it and he gasped when he realised what it was. He didn’t have the chance to warn Keith who was hit by the live end of the taser. Thankfully, their suits negated any taser charges so Lance was needlessly worrying.

No sooner had he thought that, than he saw the arcing energy running along the wire.

It was far too bright and big to be from a normal taser. Lance watched in horror as the electricity sizzled across Keith’s suit. Keith had been turning at Lance’s warning and so Lance could see his eyes widen as it hit him. Then he jerked and shook in place as the charge continued to sweep over his body. That went on for an entire minute while Lance held his breath, hoping the suits would do their job and keep Keith conscious. But his hopes were dashed when the bright electricity faded and Keith crumpled to the ground.

There was a silence filled only with Lance’s rapid heartbeat. He watched, speechless, as the larger man stepped forward to haul Keith up and, after checking Keith’s pulse, threw him over his shoulder. The sight of Keith, lifeless, being thrown around like a sack of potatoes made Lance take a shuddering breath. In all their time working for Kingsman, Lance had never seen Keith like this in the middle of a mission, let alone in the middle of a fight.

Movement from the door drew his attention and he focussed on it. A woman with her blond hair in a high ponytail, stepped forward on spiky-heeled feet. Her heels tied all the way up her calves, stopping just at her knees where her khaki shorts reached. The blouse she wore was a bright pink with a fancy, floral patch where a breast pocket should have been. She surveyed the scene with a cheerful grin. Then she spoke and Lance made sure to have the lip-reading translator on.

“ _Ooh_!” she exclaimed in English. “ _Another one of ’em! The other one must not’ve killed them all_.” She paused, presumably to listen to what one of the others were saying, probably the man who had his back to Lance and Keith’s body slung over his shoulder. “ _Hook him up, of course. Let’s get him on our side_.” Then, with a little giggle, she spun on her heel and stalked back inside.

“Shit,” said Lance. “I’m gonna take them out-”

“No, Galahad,” Shiro responded. There was an extremely short pause. “Pull back. Get to the local safe house. We can’t risk you, too.”

“What?!” Lance exclaimed, watching Keith being taken out of sight. “No! I can’t just leave K- Lancelot in there!”

“There’s not enough information,” Pidge explained. “This could have been a trap. There could be an army hidden in that building. I still can’t figure out why the thermal imaging isn’t working and I can’t detect more than eight people in there.”

“But-”

“Galahad. I know you’re worried, but Lancelot is tough. He won’t let them break him.”

“Arthur, they clearly had technology we don’t, if they can stop the thermal imaging. And that taser… The suits didn’t stop it, Morgana - I thought you and Merlin said they could!”

He could hear the grimace in Pidge’s voice. “It must have been a higher voltage than normal. I’ll have Merlin look into making something better.”

Hunk would do it, Lance knew. He always worried when they all went out on their missions and this would only make him more anxious. But that was something to think about later. “I can go in, Arthur. I can. I’ll pull him out, whatever it takes.”

“I don’t want you to switch places with him, Galahad,” Shiro said, sternly. “You need to pull back.”

Lance scrambled for an excuse that would let him do as he wanted, that would let him calm his thundering heart with his determination. There was no way in hell that he was going to let Keith be tortured and brainwashed or whatever they were going to do to him. Even if it meant going against orders, putting himself in danger, getting another Kingsman agent killed…

Realisation dawned and his eyes widened, staring unseeing as the men still standing pulled the bodies of their comrades into the building. “I need to go in there, Arthur,” he said, voice quiet. “If they brainwash him… He’s… He’s the best out of all of us. If they get to him, he’ll kill us all. I’m-I’m no match for him. And he knows where the safe house is. I’d-” He broke off, aware that he’d made his point. In his mind’s eye, he could see Keith turning up at the massive condo that constituted their Dubai safe house, could see him knocking the guns from Lance’s hands, could see him punching him in the gut to make him bend over enough for Keith to grab his head, twist and-

“I see,” said Shiro, his voice calm and even. “Yes. You’re right, Galahad. Morgana, keep an eye on him.”

Not wasting any time, Lance began to pack away his rifle as soon as he heard the word ‘yes’. As he stowed it away, he said, “Yes, sir. I’ll bring him back, don’t you worry.”

* * *

They hadn’t gotten along at first.

Both Lance and Keith had been nominated for the recently freed Lancelot position. They were the only two nominees who weren’t rich. Keith was an orphan that Shiro had discovered, mentored, practically adopted and finally nominated. Meanwhile, Lance was the middle son of a family of farmers, looking for meaning and searching for glory. His stint in the Air Forces hadn’t gone well and his attempt at a university education was faltering as he concentrated on his clubs instead. But he was fit enough and good enough to stop a thief that had interrupted one of Allura’s - the current Percival - missions by stealing an important briefcase. When Lance had retrieved it, Allura had looked into him and, when the time came, brought him to a new chapter of his life.

When they reached the Kingsman mansion, Lance had instantly made friends. Keith, however, remained a loner. They clashed when Keith tried to stand up to the people who, Lance would later realise, were just using Lance to look good. But Lance hadn’t known at the time and would argue and fight with him. Both of them became competitive, almost to the point of being dangerous to be around. As more trainees dropped out, their dislike for each other seemed to shift until they reluctantly put up with each other. Or, rather, Lance put up with Keith while Keith seemed to not care that they’d said awful things to each other.

Then there was the trial with the dogs. Apparently, Keith was perfectly fine with shooting his dog, Cosmo. Either that or he was desperate to become a Kingsman agent, to stay with Shiro. Lance didn’t know what happened; he only knew that he couldn’t bear to shoot his Dalmation, Kaltenecker. He’d thrown his gun aside and hugged his precious dog to him, determined to shield him in case the previous Arthur would try to kill him regardless. After some harsh words, Lance had left in a hurry, upset and angry - particularly at Keith who had ‘stolen’ it all from him.

Things went wrong after that. The previous Arthur had been a traitor and had both Shiro and Keith set up on their next mission. Shiro had survived but the explosion ripped his right arm from him. Keith had been shielded by him and came out relatively unscathed but super pissed. While they struggled, Arthur had offered Lance a position which Lance would have been glad to accept - if it hadn’t been for the fact that he could tell something was wrong. In order to save lives - his own included - Lance had been forced to kill him before things had settled into the way they were now.

In the aftermath, they had been there for each other. They’d become friends, despite the odds. Lance liked Keith. A lot. And he wasn’t about to let some shady organisation take Keith from him.

Which was why Lance was currently running through the streets of Dubai, cursing the fact that he’d been several streets and one very tall building away.

It took him ten minutes to reach the end of the street, umbrella clutched tightly in hand, guns everywhere on his person. The person at the food stall called out to him, trying to entice him closer. Lance barely spared the produce a glance but, as he did, he noted that the man was holding a phone. Without stopping, Lance held up his watch, twisted the dial and stunned the man before he could alert anyone. That was probably why Keith had been overwhelmed. Either that, or the man was totally innocent. Hopefully, he wasn’t going to hold that against Lance.

“He almost managed to get a text out,” Pidge said in his ear. “Lancelot didn’t even notice.”

“It was just luck _I_ noticed it,” Lance admitted.

“Sharp eyes, as usual, Galahad.”

Lance grinned for a moment before getting serious again. He hurried along the street and reached the door. There wasn’t any evidence a fight had taken place. Not even a forgotten bullet or cartridge casing, no spots of blood. Someone had been thorough in the time it took for Lance to reach the building. He frowned. This was a professional job. Who had this organisation brainwashed into working for them? And why were they adamant about getting rid of Kingsman?

Taking a deep breath, Lance knocked on the door and waited, umbrella held in his hand now. Eventually, it was opened, just enough for half a face to stare out at him. “Hello,” said Lance, putting on a posh accent. “Terribly sorry for interrupting you, but I’m afraid you have something of mine. I must insist you give it back.”

The person blinked and turned from the door slightly. Lance knew their inattention meant that he’d be able to overpower them and get inside. He waited, listening to them as they spoke in Arabic. “ _There’s another one_ ,” they said with a raspy voice. “ _What_ -?”

Deciding that it would be better to have the element of surprise, Lance slammed his body weight into the door, sending it flying into the wall. He took down the man who’d been at the door with a fist to the throat. Crumpling, the man fell away from the door and Lance could step into the first room.

With his training, he was able to quickly assess the room. There were nine men. Four of them sat at a table off to the side. One stood by them, leaning on the back of a chair. There were a couple of couches at the other end of the room upon which another one of them was lounging. Two stood near a door opposite the main one and another had just come through a door in the corner of the room. There were no stairs, as Lance had expected, especially with the mapping technology Pidge had put onto the scope. Something very weird was going on with the building.

“There’s some sort of interference…” said Pidge’s bewildered voice. “We may -ose you if thi- -eeps up.”

“When you get out,” Shiro added, “go to the safe house. -- we can’t get in contact with you, stay there. ---p your heads down.”

“--m gonna try to ----teract the -----ference,” Pidge added. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to fix this so we can talk to you.”

“Copy that, Morgana, Arthur,” Lance murmured.

Those words seemed to break the stillness in the room and, suddenly, everyone was moving at once. At the table, the men knocked over their chairs as they leapt to their feet. The man on the couch fell to the floor before he started to scramble upright. Of the others, three of them started towards Lance, drawing knives from sheaths at their backs. But the man in the corner turned back to the door and Lance knew he was going to fetch reinforcements or to alert the higher ups. So, ignoring the rest of them, Lance lifted his umbrella, swiftly set it to stun and shot the retreating man in the back.

While he crumpled to the ground, Lance turned towards the others, using his umbrella to whack the knife from one guy’s hand before throwing his umbrella in the air. As it slowly turned, Lance darted towards the guy who’d been on the couch and used his leg to swipe the guy’s out from under him. He fell backwards with a yell, hitting his head on the arm of one of the couches. Unfortunately, that only stunned him, leaving the man blinking on the floor, but still a threat.

Turning back to his umbrella, Lance snatched it from the air and, in the same movement, hooked the hooked handle around one of his attacker's neck. With a twist and a tug, Lance dragged that man into his fellow comrade. Their heads knocked together and the one with the umbrella hooked around him made a choking noise before they both fell. Jerking the umbrella free, Lance quickly turned it around and pointed it at the other five.

Those other five stayed where they stood around the table, looking from Lance to their fallen companions. When they looked back at him, Lance smiled as sweetly as possible. “Honestly, I only want what’s mine.”

None of them took kindly to that. As one, they dug into jacket and trouser pockets, pulling out several handguns. Lance didn’t wait for them to aim and fire: he pressed the relevant part of the umbrella and opened up the bulletproof shield. Switching on the screen, he watched them firing at it, like the idiots they clearly were: the umbrella didn’t cover him entirely and they could easily aim for his feet. Lance rolled his eyes before calmly aiming for the one on the right. He made sure the thing was set to stun - Keith’s comment about not knowing who they were implied they might be brainwashed and made Lance careful, not wanting to kill them needlessly or start some sort of feud with another agency. So he fired off another stunning shot and watched him fall.

One after the other, they fell until he had one final person to drop. He was frantically trying to reload his gun, grunting and gasping as he struggled with it. Lance gave him a moment, figuring he should give him a chance. Pidge’s voice came through the glasses, crackly and exasperated. “-ill y-- just drop hi- alrea-y?”

He was about to reply when, suddenly, something slammed into him from behind. Instinctively, he pulled the umbrella’s trigger but his body had been turned and he missed. Once he’d elbowed the thing behind him, Lance was able to turn enough to see what it was. The man who’d hit his head on the couch had gotten to his feet, his light blue jacket distinctive beside the rest of them, with their generic black. Lance grimaced and kicked out as the man leapt for him again. Movement and groans on the floor caught his attention and he saw that the two he had hooked together were stirring.

Clicking his tongue, he shoved the man off him so he could protect himself from a spray of bullets. Unfortunately, this gave the other guy time to pull out a gun of his own. There was no way for Lance to protect himself from both men; there was one on either side of him and there was going to be more in a few minutes. So, without preamble, he took out his own gun.

Thankfully, the man shooting at him ran out of his bullets before he had to act. Grinning at Couch Guy, he swung his umbrella around and flung it at him. The man cried out and Lance took the opportunity to shoot him in the head as his handy tool fell to the ground. As soon as he saw the red dot on the man’s forehead that meant the shot had hit, he spun and took out the other guy.

Unfortunately, that gave the last two guys time to get to their feet. One of them charged at him, still bent in half. He grabbed Lance around the middle: Lance grunted and lost his grip on his gun. It clattered to the ground as the other man took out a knife. The first one, however, didn’t stop and drove him all the way into the wall. With the air expelled from his lungs, Lance gasped and grimaced.

There was no time to recover, though, as the man stepped backwards to let his colleague get to Lance. Thankfully, Lance had had a lot of training. He may not have been as good as Keith at hand-to-hand but he was definitely good enough to bring his arm up and block the attack. With his free hand, he jabbed at the man’s throat and he recoiled, choking. As he stumbled backwards, his knife scored along Lance’s arm, cutting through the sleeve of his suit jacket. He frowned down at it before looking up at his remaining opponent.

“This is really expensive, you know,” he said.

Eyes wide, roaring a battle cry, the last goon charged at him one more time. Lance effortlessly side-stepped him. As the guy drew level with him, Lance grabbed at the collar of his shirt and the back of his jacket. Shifting his stance, Lance gritted his teeth and strained against him until the man gave way and he was able to fling the guy across the room. Still conscious, though, the man skidded across the ground before he got up, eyes narrowed. Lance could tell that he was about to give up and use a weapon so he drew out yet another custom-made gun, lifted it at the same instant as the man pulled his own gun out in front of him, and pulled the trigger, hitting the guy between the eyes.

Finished now, Lance crossed the room to pick up his umbrella. A noise attracted his attention and he looked across at the choking man. He was struggling to his feet, Lance’s first gun in his hand. Rolling his eyes, Lance pointed his gun at him and, without looking, shot him. There was a thud as the man fell to the ground but Lance ignored it as he crossed the room towards the door which had been open when he entered.

“You think it’s this way?” he asked Pidge, hoping he could still make contact.

“Li--ly,” Pidge responded. “But, if these schem-tics are any indic---on, it won’t be going up.”

“There’s a basement?” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow despite no-one being conscious to see it. “Are you sure?”

“No. There shouldn’t be-”

“Huh. Interesting.”

He opened the door and, sure enough, there was a small landing and stairs leading down. Pidge piped up before he went down them. “I’m not sure th- comms -ill still -unction when you g- down there. The sound, anyway. I’m gon-- -ry to make sure we --- still see you.”

“Okay,” said Lance, easily. He was glad they couldn’t see his face and know just how anxious this was making him.

“Good luck.”

Taking a deep breath, Lance made his way down the stairs, as calmly as he could. His heart was hammering and his breathing was a little laboured, though he put that down to the exertion from before. If he let himself think that he was nervous or worried, then he’d end up making a mess of this rescue.

Bare bulbs strung along the walls led the way down. One of them flickered as Lance passed underneath it and he gulped. He may be a tried and tested agent of Kingsman with several world-saving missions under his belt, but he still felt uneasy. It looked like the beginning of a horror movie. Lance hoped he wouldn’t find something ghostly down there.

He hoped Keith was holding up.

Eventually, he reached the bottom. A narrow corridor stretched out before him. On his right were a series of doors. They seemed to have little windows with bars set into them, quartering the area. The first one Lance stepped up to was in darkness and he frowned at it, wondering how far he would have to go to find Keith. What if he wasn’t down here any more? What if the corridor took them out elsewhere, to an escape route so they could relocate? Would Lance be able to find him from there?

Thankfully - if he should be thankful - there was a sudden noise from further along the corridor. At first, he had no idea what it was. Then his entire chest seized up as he realised what he was hearing. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, had no idea what to _do_.

It was a man screaming in pain.

 _Keith_ screaming.

Gasping, Lance ran down the corridor, listening to it getting closer. It didn’t stop, just kept going and going. Why wasn’t it stopping? Why was he still in pain. Lance’s heart hurt and he could feel tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. _Please let it stop!_ he thought, desperately.

Yet the screaming helped him find the right door, light casting shadows obliquely on the wall opposite. He nearly ran past it and skidded to a stop, likely ruining his Oxford shoes. His body turned toward it as he stopped, as if he was a hunting dog locking onto his prey. Trying to ignore the screaming, Lance peeked through the window before hurriedly darting to the side and out of view.

Inside the room were a group of about five men, less than there should have been. Where were the rest of the men he had seen earlier? One of them, of course, was the large goon who’d hefted Keith onto his shoulder. They were arranged in a vague semi-circle with two of them near the door. Standing slightly away from them, and closer to the other end of the room, was the woman from earlier. She looked amused as she watched the thing in the centre of the room. A box-like machine sat to the left of a chair - a chair upon which Keith had been strapped to, jacket and glasses gone and hair falling from where it had been tied back. Cables ran from the box to a contraption that surrounded Keith’s head and electricity was arcing across them, surrounding Keith in a field of powerful energy. It stabbed into him and, in the seconds Lance had spared to look, more and more bolts were doing so. That was probably due to the redhead in the doctor’s coat who was pushing at a lever on the machine, increasing the levels.

Lance chewed on his lip, wondering what he was going to do. Could he shoot through the window, killing them before he even opened the door? But that would alert them before he could get to Keith and then he’d run into trouble. The woman he’d seen before had the aura of Upper Henchman #1 and she didn’t seem to have any weapons on her. If he tried to fight her in hand-to-hand, he’d probably lose. And he had no doubt he’d lose his weapons if he tried to turn them on her. The doctor, whoever she was, might not be able to fight. Maybe he could fight his way over to her and then threaten them into letting Keith go. Or, he supposed, he could just turn off the machine and then destroy it.

Whatever he did, he’d have to do it fast. Keith was still screaming and it was only a matter of time before he was brainwashed. Pidge had said something about using an intense session of electroshock therapy before they did the brainwashing. Obviously, they’d started on Keith already so he needed to get Keith out of there.

Deciding to go with the whole ‘gentleman’ aspect of their agency, Lance twisted and knocked on the door before drawing back against the wall. He heard movement then a grunt as someone checked through the window. Finally, he heard a lock click and the door opened. Since he had no time to waste, Lance pointed his gun at the gap and, as soon as he deemed it wide enough, he fired. Then he shouldered his way through the door, whacking it heavily into the other guy who’d come closer to find out what was happening.

“I’m sorry to just barge in,” Lance said to them with a charming smile. “The gentlemen upstairs told me I’d find what I was looking for down here.” He gestured at Keith with his umbrella. “And it looks as though they were right.”

“Ohh!” the woman from before said, grinning. “Another one. You Kingsman guys are awful generous.”

Eyes narrowing, Lance stepped over the body of the guy he’d just shot. “We always like to please a lady. However, it really must be time for us to be going.”

The woman blinked and then turned to the doctor. “Could you turn that down?” she demanded. “I can barely hear him.”

Obligingly, the doctor pulled on the lever. For a few seconds, electricity still crackled around Keith’s head. Then, almost abruptly, it stopped and he slumped, breathing heavily. Lance twitched, yearning to go to him, to check he was okay, to get him far away from these people. The woman seemed to notice and her grin widened. Lance tried not to glare at her.

“I believe we have outstayed our welcome,” Lance said. “If you’ll just hand him over, we’ll leave quietly.”

He was startled when the woman laughed. It seemed like a genuine one and it unnerved him. “But we’ve not even been introduced. How could you have outstayed your welcome if we don’t know your names?”

Lance eyed her. “I suppose you’re right… I am Galahad. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss…?”

“Ezor,” she replied. “And you don’t need the ‘miss’. Not when we’re going to get much better acquainted.”

“Oh, really? Is that you asking me on a date?”

“Mm. Maybe. Depends on where you’d take me,” Ezor replied, her eyes roving over the room.

“An interrogation room, probably,” Lance responded, shifting his grip on the umbrella.

“I’d much rather have you tied up.” Ezor nodded to the chair Keith still sat in, her hair swaying almost violently behind her. “And, with that in mind…” She turned to the men who’d watched the scene with apparent disinterest. “Get him.”

As soon as she said that, Lance activated his umbrella. A couple of the men - including the big one - stepped towards him but the third started shooting. Lance ducked down. Ezor yelled for the man to stop firing but a couple more shots were fired off before the first two launched themselves at his umbrella. At the same instant, the man he’d knocked over with the door grabbed him around the waist. Gasping, Lance elbowed him as hard as he could. The four of them grappled and Lance could tell he was going to lose, especially with the way the two in front were wrestling with the bulletproof material of the umbrella.

Making a snap decision, Lance closed the umbrella and swiped it into the bigger guy’s stomach. With their full weight behind them, the bigger man practically launched himself into it, making him lose his breath. The other one fell forward and Lance took the opportunity to kick him in the face. His body dropped completely and he lay still.

That still left the man who seemed determined to hug him to death. But that was easily fixed as the big man hadn’t dropped. So, using him as if he was merely a wall, Lance kicked both his feet into his chest. With all the guy’s muscles, the man stayed standing, but it sent Lance careening backwards. His hugging friend was startled and couldn’t hold onto him while standing his ground. With a grunt, the man stumbled backwards a step, slipped and fell, with Lance landing heavily enough that he was soon gasping for breath. Lance didn’t waste a second and shifted off him just enough to press the barrel of his gun into the goon’s hip. When he fired, the man howled right in his ear and Lance scrambled to his feet with a ringing ear.

By that point, the man who’d tried to shoot at him had come forward, determined to help or to not be shouted at by Ezor - who, Lance now saw, was escorting the doctor to a door he hadn’t noticed at the other side of the room. Or, rather, an opening - there was no door, just an arch through which Lance could only see darkness. Lance growled and tried to start towards them.

Unfortunately, the momentary distraction had given Big Goon an opening and he took it. Grabbing at Lance, he managed to get hold of the arm holding the umbrella. As his grip tightened, Lance cried out and, when the man shook his arm, it slipped right out of his hand and out of his field of view. Grinning - and looking incredibly stupid - the man pulled him to the side. Lance couldn’t figure out what he was doing which was why he didn’t resist when the man threw him across the room and into the machine next to Keith. With a gasp, Lance crumpled to the floor, scrabbling for his gun which, he realised, he’d dropped as he’d been thrown through the air.

His fingers hit something hard and he found himself staring down at his umbrella. Quickly, he grabbed it and twisted, preparing to aim at one of the remaining foes. But, when he saw Big Goon stalking towards him, Lance faltered. If he hit this guy with a stun shot, would it have any effect? Behind Big Goon, the other guy laughed and pulled something out of his pocket. Lance thought it was going to be a weapon but it was only a packet of cigarettes - clearly, the man thought Big Goon would be able to put an end to the fight.

Eyes wide as an idea struck him, Lance pushed himself up to his feet, using the umbrella as an aid. As he stood, he patted his pockets and soon found what he was looking for. He grinned as he pulled it out, though he hoped what he was about to do wouldn't bury them under a mound of rubble. Big Goon slowed, eyes narrowed.

“Do you need a light?” Lance asked, holding up his lighter.

At the same instant, Lance knew that Pidge had visuals, at least. Several diagrams popped up before they resolved into a target which would take out his opponents, stop anyone who was coming from upstairs and _wouldn't_ crush him and Keith under several tons of building. Relieved, Lance shifted till he stood just to the side of Keith - who, worryingly, was still limp in his seat.

The man laughed and nodded, holding out a hand to make a ‘give me’ gesture. Lance inclined his head in answer and flicked the lighter open. Activating it, he threw it in the direction of the target. Then he opened his umbrella, pushed Keith’s head down so he could cover him entirely with him doubled over, and ducked down as much as he could while staying on his feet. All this preparation seemed to alert the two men that something was wrong; he heard a roar and thudding footsteps just before the explosion occurred.

Noise and light and pain was all Lance knew for the next minute. The boom of the explosion. Light and heat. Rumbling of falling masonry. Bits of stone cutting into his shins and slicing across the outside of his arms. Eventually, there was silence - but not for long.

“-lahad? Galahad! Can you hear me?”

“Pi- Morgana?” Lance answered, coughing from the dust.

“That explosion stopped what was blocking our comms!” Pidge excitedly informed him.

“Cool,” he muttered, lowering his umbrella.

Large blocks of stone completely blocked the way he had come. Most of the wall that side and along the adjacent one had caved in, replaced by piles of blasted rock. If any of the men in the room had been merely unconscious, they were now dead as Lance could see only one person. That was Big Goon who had fallen face down a few feet from him. Lance wasn't sure why until he noticed the long, sharp piece of stone which had pierced his back and, presumably, straight through his heart. Blood seeped out from under him and Lance turned away with a grimace no-one saw.

The machine he’d been standing beside looked mostly unscathed. There were a few dents and scratches and there were little stones over its surface, but the little lights and displays were still operating. Looking between Keith and the machine, Lance reached above him and pushed away the contraption that had encircled Keith’s head. Satisfied that Keith wouldn't be harmed by it, Lance pulled out his last gun and fired two rounds into the machine, turning his face away as it sparked and fizzled. Somewhere within it, there was a whooshing noise and Lance knew a fire had started within it. Which probably meant they should get out of there.

Pidge sighed in his ear. “We could have used that,” she muttered.

Rolling his eyes despite the fact she couldn't see him, Lance turned back to Keith. “Whatever,” he said as he began to release Keith’s arms and legs. “Ezor and that doctor got away so we need to get after them. Right, Keith?” he added as he shook him.

But Keith only flopped forward. He didn’t respond at all. Lance felt panic taking over him. Was Keith dead? Injured badly? Had killing all those people been for nothing? Was he brainwashed? What was Lance going to do? He had no idea what was on the other side of that opening and he'd need Keith to be able to fight with him.

Carefully, Lance grasped Keith’s face and pulled him upright so he could take a look at him. He almost startled away when he found himself staring into Keith’s blank, grey eyes. There was no recognition or any sign that he knew that he was free. Lance stared at him, breath caught.

“Keith?” he whispered, feeling tears well up. His friend didn't react.

“Ah, that's how they do it,” Pidge said, tone dark.

“What d’you mean?” Lance demanded. His fingers prodded at Keith’s face, tucking loose strands of hair behind his ears. He felt a strong urge to hug Keith close to his chest but he resisted, waiting for Pidge to tell him how to fix this.

“They torture them until their brain… sort of disconnects. I mean, I’m not a doctor, I’m just guessing. But I think Keith’s been in so much pain that he’s sort of… gone on standby. If you were to tell him to stand up, he might do it, though - he’s probably more amenable to suggestion. And to brainwashing.”

Staring at Keith, Lance exhaled unsteadily. “ _Fuck_. Pidge, we’ve gotta stop them.”

“Yeah,” Pidge quietly replied. She didn’t even scold him for using her ‘real’ name while on a mission.

“So… So, how do I get Keith to reconnect? I can’t carry him out of here and fight anyone else at the same time.”

“He needs a shock.”

“What?!” Lance exclaimed, shooting to his feet. With his grip lax on Keith’s face, he slumped forward and Lance hurriedly leaned down to pull his face up again. “I can’t do that to him, Morgana! He’s been through enough.” Glancing at the machine, he grimaced. “And I’ve destroyed that machine - there’s nothing to shock him _with_!”

“Not that sort of shock,” said Pidge, calmly. “An emotional shock.”

“What?” Lance repeated, bewildered. “How do I do that?”

“Say or do something unexpected.”

“Like what?!”

“ _I_ don’t know!”

Lance looked down at Keith and considered what would surprise him the most. Saying Pidge was pregnant? That Allura secretly rapped? Telling him Hunk punched a guy because he didn’t like the look of him? Maybe telling him that Shiro was retiring would work…

An idea occurred to him, something he tried to dismiss because… No. It just couldn’t happen, he couldn’t _let_ it happen. Lance wasn’t sure he was ready for the conversation that would happen afterwards. Yet… _That_ might be the only thing that could startle Keith enough to bring him back to Lance.

Taking a deep breath, he threw caution to the wind. Ignoring the way his heart was pounding and the way his stomach clenched with anticipation and nerves, Lance leaned forward. He held Keith’s face as gently as possible and, slowly, moved closer. Keith didn’t react, didn’t seem to be able to _see_ Lance. So Lance tilted his head slightly, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips to Keith’s.

It was a chaste kiss as he expected some sort of reaction. However, as he pulled back, the kiss over as soon as it had begun, nothing happened at all. Keith didn’t yell and push him away. He didn’t blink and ask what had happened, where he was, demand to go after the ones who had done this. And, despite knowing it was unlikely, after everything, Keith didn’t even do as Lance hoped and kiss him back. Lance almost sobbed as he stared at Keith’s eyes.

There were flecks of blue in the grey.

Deciding that there was no reason to hold back if Keith was gone forever, Lance pressed forward once more. This time, he moved his lips against Keith’s, praying that this would work. He shifted as he kissed him, his knee settling between Keith’s legs as Lance kept himself from collapsing completely on top of him. On instinct, he let his tongue dart out, testing the waters, just like he would do with all the girls and guys he’d kissed before. Usually, that got them both worked up and undressed, essential for certain missions: this time, he just hoped that Keith would _do_ something.

And then he did and it was more than Lance could have dreamed. Because Keith _kissed him back_. One moment, Lance was considering moving away; the next, Keith’s head angled up, his lips pressed back, his tongue slipped between Lance’s parted lips as he gasped in surprise. Lance made a noise, somewhere between a question and a moan of encouragement. Apparently, Keith didn’t need to be told twice as he grasped the front of Lance’s jacket, fists scrunching the material. They kissed until Lance felt the need to breathe, to talk, to make sure Keith was back in his right mind. Maybe this was a side effect of the torture, maybe he didn’t know it was Lance he was kissing…

But, when he pulled away, he couldn’t bring himself to move too far. His nose brushed Keith’s and they blinked at each other, both of them panting. Keith’s eyes looked more alive than they had before, darting between Lance’s as if he couldn’t quite believe he was real. He took a breath and said, “Lance.” It was barely a whisper and Lance could feel his breath on his lips.

“Keith,” Lance responded, suddenly at a loss of what to say. “I-”

But Keith didn’t give him the chance to finish what he was trying to articulate. With his hands still in Lance’s jacket, he pulled Lance back to him. Their lips crashed together and the kiss became more heated. There was more tongue and a few clashes of teeth. Keith’s tongue was in his mouth, Lance’s tongue was in his. Warmth bled through Lance as he realised that this was Keith, accepting him, _wanting_ him. Lance wanted nothing more than to clamber onto the seat and… Well, he wasn’t sure what they would do there, but he wanted to be closer and closer as the kiss continued.

Finally, they both had to break apart to breathe. They didn’t go far, staring into each other’s eyes. Lance wondered if he should kiss him again or say something, ask Keith how he was. He bit his lip and Keith’s eyes darted downwards. When he looked up at him again, Lance knew Keith was going to kiss him.

“Not that I’m not relieved,” said Pidge in his ear, making Lance jolt away from Keith, “but could you maybe do this when I don’t have to watch. You know. Sometime _not_ on a mission.”

“Shit, _Pi_ \- Morgana!” Lance exclaimed. “You gave me a heart attack!”

When he looked back at Keith, he found Keith blinking up at him, lips slightly pursed and redder than they had been. With his dishevelled shirt and his messy hair, it looked like they’d been doing more than kissing. He was even blushing and Lance had to glance away as his embarrassment caught up with him, too. Usually, Lance was able to control his blushing to an extent, and he wished he could do that now.

“Lance?” Keith said, drawing Lance’s attention back to him. “What’re you doing here?”

Rolling his eyes, Lance gestured around the room. “What do you think, hotshot? Saving your butt.”

“Seriously?” Keith sounded both irritated _and_ worried. “What did you do that for? You could have been in danger-! You can’t just-”

“Well, I did,” said Lance, shortly. “Shi- _Arthur_ even said it was okay.”

“Only because you had valid reasoning,” Shiro said and Lance nearly had a heart attack all over again.

“Would you two stop scaring me like that?!” Lance exclaimed - before suddenly realising that Shiro had been watching him _kiss_ Keith!

Before he could properly panic, Pidge said, “You better give Keith your spare glasses.”

“Ah. Right.” He did as he was told and pulled out the plain pair he kept in his jacket pocket. Thanks to the hardiness of the suits, they were undamaged and he handed them to Keith. It didn’t help Lance’s embarrassment, however, as Keith always looked hot with them on.

When his hair wasn’t a mess, at least.

Unthinking, Lance leaned over Keith and pulled at the hairband keeping half his hair back. It slid easily from Keith’s hair and Lance stepped back, untangling it. Once it was in a circle again, Lance slipped it over his own wrist. Glancing at Keith, he found him staring at him in surprise. Pidge sighed over the comms.

“You looked ridiculous,” Lance mumbled.

“Uh. Thanks.”

Shiro cleared his throat. “Anyway. Status report.”

Lance practically snapped to attention at his voice. “Most of the goons are buried under rubble. But Ezor took the doctor through the other… ‘door’. It’s probably our only way out, too. The machine that was, uh, torturing Keith…” He paused and glanced at Keith who winced and rubbed at his temples. “Has been…” Lance trailed off as he looked at it. “Uh. It’s on fire.” Indeed, flames were guttering out of the holes his bullets had made and smoke was billowing from it. Things within it sparked and the sight of it had Keith on his feet.

“Hmm,” said Shiro, obviously thinking.

“We should go after them,” Keith said. “Whatever they’re up to, we need to stop them. Especially if they're able to capture Kingsman agents so easily.”

“No,” said Shiro, firmly. “You’ve both revealed yourself to them and your positions are compromised.”

“But-”

“Until we know more about them, you’ll lay low,” Shiro ordered: his voice was gentle but his tone was commanding. Lance knew that Shiro would argue this until they both thought his idea was best. He looked at Keith who looked as though he was planning on arguing, anyway.

“We’re not that far behind,” Keith told him. “We can catch them.”

“You’ve been tortured, Keith. You should rest. What about you, Lance? That explosion was contained to the building, but do you have any injuries?”

“It’s just some scratches,” Lance assured them. He shifted where he stood at the mention of them and winced when he felt his ragged trousers scrape along the cuts. Keith’s head jerked around to survey him and Lance did his best to avoid looking at him by staring at their escape route.

“You both need to recover before you face these guys again,” Shiro told them. “So go to the local safe house. Morgana will show you the way.”

“Once we find out where that comes out,” Pidge added. “That opening shouldn't be there so who knows where you’ll come out.”

Keith sighed. “Fine. But if we come across them on the way out…”

“We’ll run like hell,” Lance assured Pidge and Shiro.

Scowling, Keith said, “No-”

Shiro interrupted him. “Good. Check in once you're at the safe house.”

“Yes, Arthur,” said Lance. “Come on,” he said to Keith.

Clearly reluctant, Keith followed Lance to the other side of the room. With Keith’s eyes on him, Lance tried not to limp too much. Now that he was moving again, he could feel the pain throbbing throughout his body. This was why he hated hand-to-hand combat; he was always in agony afterwards. He stopped when he reached the ‘door’ and handed Keith his umbrella. Keith sent him a questioning look and Lance hefted his gun so he could see it.

Lance peered through the opening. The glasses helped him to see that there was a long tunnel beyond. Neither the doctor nor Ezor were anywhere to be seen. Lance relaxed a little.

“Are you okay?” asked Keith, right by Lance’s ear and he nearly died.

“Jesus, Keith!” Lance exclaimed.

“Sorry,” Keith murmured, stepping around Lance to make his way along the tunnel.

Biting his lip, Lance followed, ignoring his rapid heartbeat. “Uh. Listen. About earlier…”

Keith stopped so abruptly that Lance nearly walked into him. He’d barely managed to keep his balance when Keith spun around. Lance stopped breathing. They were very close. Keith was looking up at him. He licked his lips and Lance watched them, wondering.

“Yeah?” Keith said. For once, Keith sounded cautious. Lance wanted so badly to kiss him again, hoping that was what Keith wanted. Or… Maybe Keith was expecting Lance to make fun of him for getting caught. On any other mission, he might have. But now…

“Just so you know,” said Pidge, so suddenly that both Lance and Keith jerked away from each other, “I won't be watching the safe house. Not constantly. And not in the bedroom.”

From a few feet away, Lance was sure he heard Keith mutter, “Unbelievable.” He sounded almost sullen.

“Uh,” said Lance, intelligently. He wasn’t sure whether he was responding to Pidge or Keith.

Glancing at him, Keith said, “Let’s talk about this later. In _private_ ,” he added, pointedly.

“Hear you loud and clear, Lancelot,” Pidge cheerfully replied.

“Right…” Lance said.

Keith moved off, throwing caution to the wind as he marched along the tunnel. Lance jogged to keep up. Hope thudded in his heart. Maybe, just maybe, what he often day-dreamed about would actually happen.

He wondered how long they’d be left to their own devices...

**Author's Note:**

> Then they went to the safe house and had fun and dealt with things and they were happy. 
> 
> Just as I'm writing this note, I realised that I could have Kolivan be in this as Arthur. _But too late now!_
> 
> P.S. The doctor isn't a Voltron character. I just wanted a woman to be there since there were all guys there. ¬.¬ (Ezor decided those guys were expendable...)


End file.
